


The Duality of Metal and Flesh

by IllogicalLogician



Category: Deus Ex: Human Revolution, The Matrix (Movies)
Genre: AU, Crossover, Deus Ex: Human Revolution - Freeform, Gen, Matrix-Deus Ex Crossover, The Matrix - Freeform, The Matrix: Revolutions, The Second coming of Neo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllogicalLogician/pseuds/IllogicalLogician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neo succeeded in saving humanity from the machines. Such large-scale success was short lived, however as the machines started cultivating power again. David Sarif is a Hovercraft captain with a crew that has been working for an answer to the human-machine war--an answer that lies within bonding flesh with metal to create augmentations that will redefine what it means to be human. Humanity fears all hope is lost, and puts faith in the virtue that things will work out as they always have. A lone man named Adam Jensen, a man David Sarif made into someone who is half man, half machine may be humanity's only hope for survival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue- With Change, Comes Desolation

__

For what seemed ages, man had fought machine for the sheer virtue of existence. Man purged the power source for machine, while the machines adapted and then fought back, pushing man farther and farther into what would be known as the last human city. For so long, man had looked at machine as the enemy; cold, heartless, enslaving and tyrannical. The Matrix had been liberated, Neo had saved all of them, and an alliance with the machines was beneficial, at first; for unsteady truces were far from long lived. The Architect regained control of the machines, turning them once again against man and spinning a Matrix so complex and powerful that none could corrupt it.

Even yet, there was that one piece of code, one sliver that would put the entire story back into motion again. "The One" was the sixth of them, after all, and time had to repeat itself for natural order to be restored.

This time, order was streamlined. The Architect had found every loophole in his design and fixed it, plugged them like a breach in a computer's firewall. No mortal, no matter the manipulative powers they possessed within or without the Matrix could surpass them. The Architect mused; every time he rewrote the Matrix, every time The One had defeated the virus that plagued the minds of all and destroyed the negative utopia he had created, they had been so utterly... _predictable_. The saviors were too human, too fueled by fear and anger and nobility and the slightest bit of egotism. The Architect smirked, and sat back as the Matrix began unfolding before his eyes, a sight that had never ceased to cause excitement to well within him; that was something he could seldom claim and be truthful. His smirk remained concrete as he thought of the Oracle, somewhere out there. She would live to spite him, and yet she would always have to play by his rules.

Those who had lived to see Neo's triumph, had lived through the dark and the newly blossoming light, only to see humanity fall to the dark ages once again-- were less than hopeful that a new savior would come. If they would not come, then who would rise above all oppression?

Yes, this Matrix was the one that would never be infiltrated by a mortal human. To do so, they'd have to be part machine, almost godlike, and that prospect was as atrocious as human eyes ever seeing the sun again.

***

"With all due respect, counselors," David Sarif began, "ever since the Matrix came back online, we've been scared puppies hiding from our imminent doom." David Sarif stood in front of Zion's council, with his ship's crew behind him. The vast Meeting hall had never felt so stifling. Other Hovercraft captains, military leaders and Zion's vital personnel all gathered in the seats behind them.

"Don't be so melodramatic, David." The Head Counselor waved his statement away, but continued to listen to the Hovercraft Commander's plea.

"Sir, what I'm trying to say is: The machines are more powerful than ever. Neo may have defeated them _temporarily_ , but you, I , and every other person out there have seen the destruction the machines are causing now. Don't pretend that the incident on the engineering level was purely an _accident_."

"Hold your tongue, or be given judgment without this trial, Commander." Another counselor spoke up. David grimaced.

"Peace, Jericho." The Head Counselor interjected. "The machines have since been expelled from Zion, and we continue to live as we have before. And that, as you know David, is how we always have lived."

"We don't need to be constantly in fear of these machines!" David raised an arm-- a mechanically engineered limb that caused an uproar in the seats behind him and his crew. The council said nothing, they only waited for the shouts of discontent to die down.

"This, David is why you and your crew stand trial." The Head Counselor spoke.

"A trial is determined by both sides, is it not?" David's voice was cool.

"It is so. Continue." The slightest bit of apprehension tainted the Head Counselor's voice. David ignored it and went on.

"Counselors, fellow captains, colleagues, and _friends_ ," David stood his ground, regarding the others with fervor. "None of us can deny, we are once again engaged in an inevitable losing war with the machines. It's ugly, it's tragic, but it's here and we need to do something about it, or there won't be a human soul left who isn't a slave of the Matrix."

"That is not so. The Matrix is programmed to always have those who can defy it. It is the constant in an ever changing system." Another counselor, Athena spoke.

"We cannot depend on this as a means of our survival. The only constant in life is change, and if we don't adapt first, the machines will destroy us." A silent, though collective sigh rang through the council.

"So what, Sarif, do you suppose we do?" Jericho uncrossed his arms and leaned on the table before him.

"These augmentations, cybernetically enhancing human functions will allow us to fight these machines, and win. Mechanically enhanced limbs and internal functioning devices will offer strength, endurance, while neural implants can be the next step in more efficient data processing and problem solving. Counselors, it would make us _better_."

"Enlighten us further, David. How is redefining the lines between human and machine, essentially making us into the enemy going to be better than our situation now? If we _become_ the enemy, how are we supposed to fight it?"

"Counselors, with my respect; _you are missing the point_. Machines aren't the sole enemy, it's the machines that threaten to enslave us and destroy our home who are the enemy. We use machinery every day. To keep us warm, fed, and _alive_. Hovercrafts take us everywhere we need to go outside of Zion's walls. The Matrix itself is one massive machine. We work with technology all the time, and it is beneficial. Why not integrate it to be a part of ourselves so we can win this war?" Silence resonated for endless moments, long after the echo of David's voice faded from the chamber. It was the Head Counselor who broke it.

"You make valid points, David. However, bonding flesh with machine isn't civil. All of us want to end this conflict, but there are more sensible ways of doing so. The audacity you have shown in directly disobeying our values by _testing your plans on other humans_...."

"Of whom gave full consent for our tests to be done on them!"

"These humans, who were crippled by your so called, 'augmentations' and were eventually rendered incapable to function, or worse: dead."

"Head Counselor, further research is harboring a possibility to battle rejection syndrome. A chemical compound called Neuropozyne. If we are allowed to continue our endeavors, we can..."

"Enough, David. This trial has reaped all that it can from this situation."

"I understand your conclusion, Head Counselor." David's voice was hardly above a whisper.

"I can only hope so, David. This meeting is adjourned. The council, I, and the Hovercraft captains, excluding David Sarif will convene tomorrow. A forthcoming trial to determine the fate of the Tesla's crew will be held afterward. You will all be summoned from your quarters at that time." The scuffing and murmur of the crowd filing to leave filled the chamber. David sighed, looking to the others.

"We're doomed." Malik crossed her arms and spoke with a hard, unwavering...determination.

"We won't know anything until tomorrow." David said.

"Well, I don't see how they could decide anything else." Frank spoke up, scratching the back of his head. The others nodded.

"If we hadn't started this research..." Megan began to speak, but David interrupted her. He reveled in the fact that she referred to _we_ instead of _him_. The decision of the council was out of his hands, but to get through their dilemma they would have to do it together.

"Our research is groundbreaking. Redefining what it means to be _human_ is exactly what we need right now. People don't see it now, but augmentation is the way of the future. I don't care that we're going against some, _ancient rite_ that says man will not be bound with machine for the 'sake of humanity'. We're doing a good thing." David put a hand on Megan's shoulder. "Get some rest, all of you. Judgment day is tomorrow, and whatever the outcome, we need to be ready."

The night was empty, even the humming of the generators that pulsed through the walls were of no consolation as David lay, sleepless. A million thoughts ran through his head. What would he and his crew _do_ if they were essentially excommunicated from Zion? It was very in the realm of possibility, and terrified David more than he would ever let on. He would get his ship, his crew, and a month's worth of supplies. Once the supplies or the fuel ran out, they'd be on their own and at the mercy of the cold and the _machines_. A voice in the form of the Council subconsciously mocked him. _You want to be so immersed in machinery, the wastes will be a perfect place for you_.

That was what the council didn't understand. The machines in the wastes were thoughtless, programmed only to kill. The machinery that David was proposing, that Megan had engineered was programmed to save. The fundamental parts were the same; much like how psychopaths were made of the same cellular structures as prophets. David rolled over in bed.

He didn't know what scared him more, the concept of being left to the elements outside of the sanctuary of Zion, or facing the reality of the machines slowly taking over humanity. The coming months would be hard, for all of them. David sighed, closing his eyes and preparing himself for a less than sleepless night.

Pritchard looked with wide and overtired eyes at his laptop. Computer diagnostics for the _Tesla_ 's interface were endless, but they wouldn't get very far without them. The Council's decision was an obvious one, and the tiny shred of hope anyone held was fruitless. He rubbed his eyes with his hands and blinked the stars away, fingertips resuming to rest on the keypad. Pritchard shut his eyes. His quarters were run down, and nothing short of falling apart, however they were his home, and what was he to expect from a place that was built from ruin? The amber glow of a lone lamp cast familiar shadows within a peaceful Zen of quiet.

Such quiet was very abruptly torn into by a sound of something rapping on metal. Pritchard jumped, eyes darting to the source of the noise. _The air vent?_

"Malik, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in your quarters?" Pritchard scorned the pilot, all the same pulling the cover off of the air vent and letting her in.

"I couldn't sleep. Awaiting judgment is all too much of a lonely business."

"Are we twelve, now? Climbing through an air vent to sneak into my room?"

"It was the most convenient. They have discreet guards patrolling the corridors, besides." Malik rose to her feet, and walked with Pritchard to sit beside his bed on a chair. She propped her feet on the mattress as Pritchard resumed his work. "What're you doing?"

"Running diagnostics that will run the ship through security checks and prep it for travel. I'm also compiling maps of all of the known underground sewers and airways in the wastes. We have to be prepared." There was silence, before Malik spoke again.

"Do you think there's any chance that we'll be able to stay?"

"No." Malik offered no reply, only letting her gaze fall to the far wall of the room.

"I'm scared, Frank." Pritchard looked up from his computer, his bleary-from-not-enough-sleep eyes meeting Malik's, alert and honest.

"The mighty Faridah, pilot of such a renowned and capable vessel such as the _Tesla_ is afraid of a mere banishment?" Pritchard tried to joke, tried to lighten the mood so that they weren't so _desolate_.

"Sarif is right, Pritchard. The machines are getting stronger. If we can barely keep our feet in Zion, of all places, how are we supposed to survive on our own out _there_?"

"Well, we have a capable captain and a genius engineer and a brilliant computer tech, I think that's all we need." Malik dug the toe of her boot into Pritchard's arm.

"I'm serious, Frank. The wastes are nothing to take lightly."

"Which is why I'm running these diagnostics, so we can be ready." Malik managed a smirk of assent.

"I guess you're right. No time like the present, huh?"

"Mmm." Pritchard nodded, preoccupied with programs and algorithms. Malik got up to leave in silence, placing a hand on Pritchard's shoulder. He paused, and looked up. "Get some rest, Faridah."

"You too, tech-man." Malik made it halfway across the room when Pritchard spoke.

"Malik?"

"Yeah, Pritchard?"

"I'm scared, too." A fleeting moment of understanding, one that could never be conveyed by words passed between their glances. The unknown was terrifying, and willing or not they were being thrust into it. Malik turned away, stooping to crawl through the air vent again. Pritchard stood to cover it again, suddenly missing the company. Pritchard sighed. Dawn was coming, and what it would bring, he didn't know. At that moment, apprehension was his greatest enemy.

As morning came, transitioning into day which segued into evening, the crew of the _Tesla_ waited their summons with bated breath. As the Council called upon them, a silence fell over the city that could only be compared to a death march. Before they entered the Meeting Hall, David regarded his crew.

"Whatever they choose will determine where we go, but it does not determine our fate. We do what we think is vital to this species and it won't matter where they send us. We're in this together." Silent approval emanated from each soul before him. David nodded, and opened the doors of the Meeting Hall.

"David Sarif, Captain and Commander of the Hovercraft _Tesla_ , along with the crew of said Hovercraft, stand trial today for the treasonous, and potentially villainous actions of promoting and committing the bonding and joining of human flesh with machine." The Head Counselor spoke above all. "The Council has convened to determine your fate, and has reached a conclusion that all have vouched for. David Sarif, you and your crew are to be exiled from the city of Zion. You will take a month's worth of fuel for your ship and rations for your personnel, along with any personal items you have kept here. If you attempt to fly into Zion's loading docks after your departure, you will be treated as an enemy combatant and taken down. If there are any oppositions or questions to what I have said, please speak up now." Not a word was spoken, all eyes cast to the ground, or at the Hovercraft's crew standing before the council.

"Very well, then. Crew of the _Tesla_ ; you have six hours to prepare your ship for departure and leave Zion's limits. Failure to comply will result in imprisonment. Meeting adjourned."

***

The six hours passed in a flurry of movement. As the _Tesla_ was disconnected from the loading bay, it wavered, its balance thrown off by the sudden displacement. David stood behind the pilot's chair, listlessly gazing to the void that opened up past Zion's walls. He felt the hum of life all around him, the beast becoming one with him and his crew.

"Ready, sir?" Malik looked up at him. "Zion's mainframe operators are giving us the go-ahead." David closed his eyes and let out a huff.

"Ready. Take us out of here, Faridah."

"Aye, sir." The engines purred and growled, Malik taking the _Tesla_ out, slowly but surely. It was just protocol, but David could feel her reluctance to leave. It was pooling inside of him, as well.

"How are we looking, Pritchard?" David spoke over the COM link.

"Well, a joy to see that our communications are working. Diagnostics check out, and our course is sure. As long as Faridah follows the maps I've uploaded, we'll have smooth sailing."

"Good. Sarif out." David disconnected from the frequency and turned to the main screen. They had cleared Zion's walls, and the darkness of the wastes had never seemed so threatening, especially when they had no home to go back to. David pulled up a screen of their rear view. The lights of Zion still shone through the closing doors of the loading bay. As the light faded from view, David smirked. _The light fades as we thrust ourselves into the world of tomorrow_. They were now at the mercy of the machines. Perhaps that is what humanity would need for them to gain the strength to triumph.


	2. Chapter 1- Machinery and Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam Jensen is a crew member aboard a ship called the Tutankhamun, operating under a captain who rules with an iron fist. In a mission out to the wastes gone awry, Adam has had enough. Meanwhile, the crew of the Tesla are five and a half months into their banishment, scanning abandoned sectors of the wastes for anything that could aid them. "Anything" may just might mean "anyone", as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems it has taken me ages to finish this chapter, but alas, it is done! I hope you enjoy it!

Adam couldn't tell if the roaring in his ears was from the pounding of his own heart, or from the aggravated Sentinels that had so easily triangulated his location. Armed with nothing but a few EMP grenades and an old, beaten-up shotgun, Adam had fled. He had fled the crew of the _Tutankhamun_ and their misled, but dictator-like captain. He was sick of operating like no better than a pirate ship of old, plundering and scavenging old wreckage and keeping the supplies for themselves. This last mission, one that led them into the abandoned sewers, was his final straw.

Sent out into the wastes with another crew member, they had orders from the Command of their city to find a vital hard drive that a long forgotten Hovercraft had left behind. Chance brought them to an _inhabited_ sector. Humans were living in the lowest part of the wastes, persevering against all odds. It had filled Adam with a sort of pride, that the human race was so resilient. It had also filled Adam with a sort of dread, as their captain had always instilled a "take no prisoners" attitude. If they came across someone and they were a threat to their mission, their orders were: shoot to kill.

They had set off five days prior, having found nothing in countless piles of shrapnel and metal. At first, they had started above ground, hoping that they wouldn't have to descend into the deepest depths of the wastes. After the fourth day had come and gone, they had no other choice. With their nerves steeled and their breath held, Adam and his partner, Haas took to the sewers.

Everything had been going well enough-- it was cold and muggy and they lived in perpetual fear that machines would be hiding behind every corner-- but they were well armed and in good enough health. In those times, you had to take what you could get.

Up until the fifth day, Adam and Haas hadn't encountered another living soul. It didn't seem likely that they would, and the thing that made Adam the most anxious was the prospect of coming back to the _Tutankhamun_ empty handed, _again_. Another failure to find their Command's hard-drive and it would be them who were the compromising factors.

Adam and Haas came upon an old Hovercraft. Falling apart; it had been a long time since anyone had flown her.

"Captain said that the hard-drive was expected to be in an abandoned Hovercraft." Haas mentioned, coming to a stop. Adam mimicked him.

"Yeah, but this far below ground?"

"It would explain why no one's found it, yet." Haas started walking again.

"Wait, Haas." Adam grabbed his shoulder. "What if it's a trap?"

"Paranoia has always been your strong suit, Adam. We haven't seen anything for, what? Hours? Come on."

"Fine." Adam complied, following Haas to an access hatch on the side of the Hovercraft's hull. With a loud, metallic groan that made Adam wince, they both pried it open and climbed inside.

"Fan out. We'll cover more ground that way."

"Haas, I don't think that..."

"The faster we do this, the faster we can get back to the ship." Haas turned and headed down a corridor. _What if I don't want to go back? What if nothing is here, Haas?_ Adam clenched his teeth and with no other choice, he started searching. Every section of the ship seemed to be crushed or burnt to ruin. There weren't even supplies to salvage, let alone their prime objective. Adam was about to give up, begrudgingly turn back and meet Haas. He lowered his weapon, and took not even two steps before a shuffling sound caught his attention. He whirled around, shotgun raised. He counted to ten. Behind a closed door, the sound came again. Adam took a deep breath, easing the door open, while still behind the frame. He turned the corner, finger nearly on the trigger, when a cry-- a _human_ cry nearly startled him to drop his weapon.

Adam stared into the face of an old woman. She was dirty, probably sick and dying of hunger, but she was alive. She wore little but clothing that was torn and ragged, and her hair was tangled and greasy. She sat, curled and shaking in the corner of the room; a living quarters, if Adam could tell. What caught his attention the most were her eyes. Unlike the rest of her, they were livid and adamant.

Adam put his hands up, harnessing the shotgun across his back.

"It's okay, I'm not here to hurt you." Adam walked closer to the old woman, slowly. "What's your name, ma'am? What are you doing here?" He knelt down beside her. Still, she said nothing, only trying to retreat back from him further. Adam doubted she had had any human contact in months. "My name is Adam Jensen, my partner and I were scouting, out here. Do you know about any other people in this area?" The woman shook her head slowly, locking her gaze with Adam's for a moment. Soon, her gaze wandered to a point just above his head. Adam tried to get her attention.

"Ma'am, I need you to..."

"Adam!" Haas yelled as he threw open the door. The woman cowered beneath her ratty coat, whimpering.

"Haas, I..." Before Adam could say any more, Haas grabbed Adam's shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Regaining his balance, he looked to Haas. "What are you doing?" Haas had put himself between Adam and the old woman, and was holding his weapon up.

"Take no prisoners, Adam. Never compromise our mission."

"You know, Haas, those would be great tenets for this situation if we were a brotherhood of _assassins_. This is an innocent woman, who probably hasn't seen another human being for god knows how long. I think we can make an exception on this one." Adam spread his arms, trying to reason with his partner. Haas looked down, and then shook his head.

"No, Adam. We have our orders." Haas cocked his gun, and aimed.

"Haas, no!" Adam pulled out his own weapon in a heartbeat. The gun had never felt heavier in Adam's hands. By iron will alone, he willed his hands to stop shaking as he leveled the barrel at his partner. The poor woman shook, clutching her tattered shawl as tears streamed down her face. Even in hell, people had the spirit to survive. Adam shifted on his feet. His heart thudded in his chest, so much as if it could burst.

"Adam." Haas furrowed his brow in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"We can't kill her, Haas. She's a human being. We're no better than the machines that we fight if we take her life so mercilessly."

"We have orders, Adam."

"To kill an innocent person?"

"To finish our mission, with no compromising aftermath."

"Haas, we're miles away from the nearest inkling of civilization. Do you honestly think that she could be a threat to us?"

"We never know. I'd rather not take the chance."

"Then why don't we take her with us? She's no good to anyone dead, she could be a part of our crew." Adam spoke quickly, desperately. He counted on the fact that Haas couldn't tell.

"Captain would do the same, you know that." A deadly conviction resonated as Haas spoke. Adam scrambled for words. If he couldn't convince Haas immediately, maybe he could buy time. "Sorry, Adam." Haas shrugged his shoulders and turned to the woman.

"No!" Adam dropped his weapon and threw his body weight forward, sidelining the other man and throwing him off balance. Adam's intervention did nothing for the fate of the bullet, for the gunshot was still deafening. However, the bullet did not hit flesh, but metal. Adam looked up, feeling a moment of triumph before Haas had rolled over and swung his elbow to Adam's mouth. Adam rolled to block it, using the momentum to scramble to his feet.

"What are you thinking?!" Haas came within inches of Adam's face.

"That an innocent woman doesn't need to die." Adam hissed through his teeth. The blatant disregard for human _life_ that this captain and crew had were sickening. Adam had had enough.

"Well aren't you just a...a messiah!?" Haas threw his arms up in the air and turned, seething. "With your _saving_ someone else's life, you've written off our own!"

"What are you talking about, Haas? The only danger to life is you to this woman!" Adam chanced a look to the woman, who still sat against the wall, petrified. Adam wanted to take her to somewhere safe. What on earth was someone doing this far out? Without a ship or family or group?

"The machines will have heard that gunshot. They're probably closing in on us already." As if by cue, the sound of screeching and twisting metal filled the room. The three of them looked up, hearts stopping. The sentinels had found them.

"They would have come anyway." Adam breathed, eyes darting around the room, looking for a way out.

"And found someone dead. It would have given us time to escape, since they'd have thought she was the only human here."

"That's ridiculous. Their tracking systems are more advanced than any human Hovercraft's. They'd have found us anyway." A mechanical, clawed tentacle tore through the ceiling. Adam and Haas jumped back.

"We still have time to escape."

"Are you _joking_ , Haas? And use this woman as bait? No, she's going with us, or we don't go at all." More of the Sentinels cut holes in the top of the roof. A few more seconds was all it took for them to completely breach the barriers.

"There is _no time for this, Adam_." Haas grabbed Adam by the arm and shoved him through the back door. Adam looked back to the old woman. Her gaze locked with Adam's for a moment before he was pulled away. There was a gut wrenching screech as Haas shut the door behind them. The Sentinels had made it inside. They both ducked behind a pile of rubble, holding their breath.

There were no screams, no sounds of a fight. Just the sickening frequency of metal scraping metal and the roar of the machines. Adam shut his eyes. Terror overcame him, wringing his will and soul until he could stand no more. Before he knew it, Haas was gripping his shoulder, pulling him to his feet. Silence boomed through the passageway. The Sentinels had gone. Adam stood, speechless, looking from the abandoned ship to Haas, and back again. He couldn't tell if there was more of pity or more of scorn in Haas's eyes.

"We have to go back to the ship, Adam." Haas unslung the rifle on his back, holding it to his chest.

"Yeah." Adam equipped his shotgun, cocking it with his eyes cast to the ground. Haas turned and started walking. Adam glanced behind him before following. An ache formed in the pit of Adam's stomach. Another day had gone by and he and Haas were empty handed. Their ship had been gone for weeks. Their captain would be furious, and after today, there was no telling what he would do after they reported. It wasn't so much the captain's wrath that ravaged Adam's psyche, but the implications of going back to his ship, only to start the cycle over again. A ship was nothing without her captain, and a captain was nothing without their crew. If Adam was sent on another one of the captain's missions, if he had no choice but to let the humanity be stripped from him like the machines were soulless, Adam could no longer live with himself. The human race was so fragile, so few and far between, that every life lost was not only immoral, it was a danger to the very essence of human kind.

The woman back there-- the place now behind them, probably never to have mortal flesh step there again-- Adam would never forget her eyes. They were eyes that had seen much, and probably held many stories that were meant to be told. They would never be; Adam felt responsible.

Responsibility he was willing to take, no matter how painful. This was something different, something he wouldn't stand for, he couldn't.

Haas would never consent to Adam's thinking. They had been partners for years, but no matter how well they knew each other there was still a rift. Haas was brash, stuck in his ways like a fly in honey. Adam respected him for his loyalty, but questioned if he had any set morals of his own. How could someone follow so blindly if they thought about what they did?

There was no other way to end this. He was but one man. There was no way that he could stop what his captain was doing, and no one else would side with him; of that he was certain. Adam took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I'm sorry, Haas." Adam whispered, barely audible. The wind carried it just so that Haas heard, and turned around, about to question him. Without thinking, Adam took the butt of the shotgun and made contact with Haas's face. With nothing more than a grunt, Haas fell to the ground, unconscious with a bloody nose to match. Adam dropped to one knee, fishing through his own pockets, emptying them. He then rooted through Haas's, finding a few rifle rounds and EMP grenades. He fought tears. _We could have saved that woman._ Adam hesitated a moment. Would his treason be for nothing, if he didn't give Haas a fighting chance? Out of four, he took two of the grenades. They'd be even, then. Adam picked up his own weapon and stood, looking around for any signs of the machines. Adam unclipped the GPS-Communication device he carried with him; the crew would be able to track him if he didn't leave it. His stomach knotted further. He'd be completely alone, with no one to find him. Within the moment, the benefits of such a virtue outweighed the detriments. Adam took a deep breath. With a regretful, but spiteful look, Adam glanced down to Haas, and then started his trek. Where, he could not say he was going, but anywhere was better than that godforsaken ship.

***

The sun, with its life-giving gift of sunlight and vitality-producing warmth and sense of time had been obscured, long before Adam was even born. Nothing would help him determine the hours of the day and night other than a slight shift in temperature; a slight shift that was relevant only when above ground. Adam had been trudging and sneaking through the sewers for what seemed ages. He shivered, and pulled his worn jacket tighter around his shoulders. He was weary; he could feel the drag his exhaustion pulled his heavy limbs with. Fear is what drove him. Fear of the machines, fear of retaliation from his crew. Fear is what drove him away from certain death. Sometimes he believed that it kept him alive more than his training or weapons could.

It was an inexplicable fear that he felt when a tell-tale metallic drone reverberated through the sewers. Adam looked up, and then ducked behind the nearest structure. The Sentinels could be coming from anywhere, and the echoes the sewers heralded were not helping. Adam shrunk against the wall he hid behind, looking in every direction he could; searching for the metallic gleam of red that marked the Sentinel's sensors.

Adam's options were minimal. With what little weaponry he had, he wouldn't put up much of a fight as soon as he opened fire. A well placed EMP grenade would do well, however he wouldn't be able to accurately aim without exposing himself; in the time that it would take for the grenade to detonate, the Sentinels would have already torn him apart. Their droning grew louder, and then came the discrepancy between the death machines and his own live, beating heart. _I didn't come this far to die now._ Adam grit his teeth, closing his eyes and taking a few deep, though frantic breaths. The thought caused another surge of adrenalin to push him to his feet. He opened his eyes, and fired his weapon, the bullet crossing the tunnel, drawing the Sentinels in his general direction.

Echoes were his ally, and the sound of the gunshot filled the area with cacophonous noise. It was enough for the Sentinels to be halted, only for a split second, but enough for Adam to duck behind another pile of rubble and dirt. He had a better view of the machines.

There were four of them, snaking their clawed limbs across the ground like spiders and scanning every crevice. The echo had almost faded. Adam had to move fast. He unclipped one of the EMP grenades from his belt and pulled the pin, throwing it to the group of machines.

The sound was acute, and even through the fading echo of his gunshot, the Sentinels heard the grenade fall before it detonated. Half of them were caught in the charge. Adam heard the satisfying 'clang' of falling metal. Still, he held his breath. Adam looked over his shoulder to see if their shadows were cast in his direction.

An eerie silence came over the sewers. Had the other Sentinels fled? A very small chance, Adam didn't count on it. Adam looked to his other side, and could hardly suppress a cry of surprise and fear as the cold red lenses stared back at him. In an instant, the Sentinel had its claws primed and reaching for the mortal man that stood before it. Adam raised his weapon in defense, shifting backwards in a futile attempt of escape. One claw grabbed Adam by the leg, preparing its other _tools_ to finish him off with. Having kept a hold on his shotgun, Adam unloaded round after round in desperation to break away.

The Sentinel let go, one of its limbs torn to frayed bits of metal. Adam scrambled to his feet, only managing a few steps before the Sentinel grabbed him again. Its hold on him was short lived, as the Sentinel lashed to turn, throwing Adam several feet from where he originally stood.

Caught off guard, Adam dropped his shotgun, landing awkwardly on his arm and scraped against the rubble on the ground of the sewer in more places than one. Cringing against the pain, Adam rolled onto his back, desperately searching for his weapon. Another Sentinel towered over him. The sudden shock of the moment made him hold his breath, as if saving it for his final moments. The Sentinel reared its claws, and went for the kill.

Adam covered his head, curling to a defensive position, and bracing for an indefinable pain. It never came. All he heard was the Sentinel fall. It took him a few moments to lower his arms from his head and look up. The Sentinel lay, motionless on the ground. Adam took a deep breath. It was then that he realized that he was shaking. He tried to calm his racing heart, though it reminded him that he was _alive_.

Adam heard scuffing, as if someone was scraping their feet. Had Haas caught up to him? Maybe being alive after that Sentinel attack wasn't so much of a good thing. The footsteps grew nearer, and quicker. Adam backed away, trying to lift himself to his feet, but despite the adrenalin still coursing through his body, the arm he fell on gave out and he fell back to the ground. Two women came from around a corner. Both were holding flashlights; Adam squinted as one of them spoke.

"Sir? My name is Megan Reed. We come from the Hovercraft Tesla. Do you have a landing party you were with, or a ship to go back to?" Adam swallowed, almost overjoyed to see unfamiliar faces.

"No, I've...I've been traveling alone for the past few days."

"Well, you're lucky to have held off those Sentinels such as you did. It gave us a chance to ward them off from you." Megan looked him over quickly, before offering a hand. "You're hurt. Can you walk?"

"You're taking me back to your ship?"

"Well we can't just leave you out here." The other woman spoke. Adam turned down the offered hands and managed to work his way to his feet. Aches and pains blossomed from everywhere, but Adam stayed sure on his feet. Nonetheless, he carefully cradled his injured arm in the other, following Megan as she turned to lead him.

The walk wasn't far, but the sight of a working, manned Hovercraft felt like reaching salvation. Apprehension came afterward. The ship looked like it had come from Zion. _What were they doing out here?_   Would this ship's crew really be so civil when they learned of where he came from?  They came up to the access hatch, and Megan spoke.

"Malik, tell David the castaway is alive and in adequate shape. I'll patch him up and do the necessary blood work, and give him the spare living quarters to rest in."

"Will do, Megan." Malik nodded and took off in the opposite direction as Megan guided Adam to the ship's medical lab.

"Castaway?" Adam looked back at Megan, keen on guiding him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, anyone roaming abandoned sectors of the wastes is considered a castaway. And I haven't gotten your name, so that adds to the ambiguity of the term." Megan gestured for Adam to sit on a nearby stool. _The ambiguity of a castaway_. Adam's stomach knotted. The old woman still didn't leave his mind.

"Adam. Adam Jensen." He finally answered, watching Megan carefully as she gathered various supplies.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Adam." Adam managed a smirk.

"And you, Doctor Reed." Silence ensued as Megan pulled up a chair beside Adam.

Megan treated his wounds with an unexpected degree of tenderness. Though it stung and hurt and Adam let out only a few hisses of pain, there was a certain elegance that the doctor worked with. Soon, she was finished.

"Alright, I have you fixed up to the best of my abilities; the rest is up to your body and time."

"That's quite prophetic." Adam joked. Megan briefly smiled, and then turned and walked towards the cabinet that held even more medical supplies.

"All I need you to do now is roll up your shirt sleeve, hold your arm out on the table." Adam complied, looking to Megan as she turned, holding an empty syringe. Adam flinched as Megan put the tip of the syringe near his exposed flesh.

"Don't worry, I just need to do a little blood work, to make sure you're medically sound."

"Why is that, again?"

"Protocol. We need to profile you, so you can be documented as a part of this crew. It's also a way to check for any viral spies. Viral, as in a computer virus; it's basically to ensure no bugs of the Matrix make it to human outposts. It's just precaution, so no unneeded danger is brought to anyone."

"Well, that's really sweet, considering everything out there wants to see me dead." Megan didn't say anything, but paused before she took the blood sample. "I'm sorry, I just...don't like needles." Adam smirked, looking sheepishly to Megan. Rolling her eyes, the syringe pierced skin and Megan extracted the blood she needed.

"I'll start the tests on this right away." Megan set the blood sample down, and then beckoned Adam to follow her. She led him to the empty quarters she had mentioned before. The room was small, but it felt secure enough without being downtrodden. Megan led him into the room.

"Until the tests are done, make yourself comfortable here. There's a shower to your left, and spare clothes in this closet." Megan gestured towards the sliding doors. "If you need anything from me, there's a call button near the door that will reach me. And don't even think about trying to hack the keypad to unlock the door once I leave. You need to stay here until the tests are completed."

"Pretty brave of you, to be standing so close to a potential _Viral Spy_ , Doctor Reed, and leading them around your ship."

"Just risk a doctor must take, I suppose." Megan stowed the blood sample away in a tote and gathered her evaluations. "Take a shower, and get some rest, Mr. Jensen. You look like you've been through hell and back." Megan turned and made her way for the door.

"Goodnight to you, too, Doctor Reed." Adam called after her. As the door to his quarters shut, he sighed. The security of a seemingly sound Hovercraft was nice. He questioned why they were so far out of Zion's limits, if they _were_ from there. Maybe they were pirates like the crew of the _Tutankhamun_? The thought of facing anything like that again sent a shiver down Adam's spine. Besides, if these people were pirates, they'd have killed him before he made it within EMP range.

Adam stood, body stiff and already starting to attain a dull ache. He paced around the room, brushing his fingertips across the small desk in the corner, feeling the electric warmth of the one lamp in the room. Adam opened the door to the small closet, and found a set of clothes, not much different from his own, except for they were  _clean_ and unworn. Adam bunched the clothing into his hands and turned to head for the shower.

The water coming from the showerhead was lukewarm at best, but it still washed the dirt and grime and _shame_ from Adam's body. He was a deserter, abandoning his duty as a crew member and his allegiance to his captain. Adam was putting everyone on this ship in danger-- the _Tutankhamun_ was bound to be searching for him.

The death patrol was out for blood, and he had killed. An innocent soul without constitution or home, and whether it was under the rule of an insane tyrant or not, he still _allowed someone to die_.

A bullet wasn't what killed the poor woman he and his partner faced, but the Sentinels that heard the ricochet of metal on metal that still rang of _human_. No matter how he tried, no matter how hard he shut and rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his palms to _make it go away_ , Adam couldn't get the sight of the woman's eyes as the Sentinels attacked out of his head. All humans had these days were other human beings, and Adam couldn't even provide that. He wondered if it would be easier if he were a machine, cold, unfeeling. The chills the thought of being like one of _them_ , one of the machines made him expel the thought immediately.

Soon enough, the water ran cold and the chills Adam was feeling weren't from the darkness of his own thoughts. He turned the water off, carefully stepping out of the shower and drying off, shrugging on the spare clothes he had grabbed. Adam came upon the dusty mirror that hung above the sink. A small bruise had formed under his left eye and there was a shallow cut following his jaw line. He had been hurt minimally-- those injuries along with a few other minor things: a sprained wrist, a gash on his leg-- he had been lucky. Adam scowled at himself in the mirror. Did he even deserve such luck, or the hospitality of a crew that wasn't his own?

Adam sat on the edge of the worn mattress, putting his head in his hands. If his conscious mind brought such scarring ghosts to haunt him, he feared sleep would destroy him. Still, it had been days since he had gotten a full night's sleep, as missions on the _Tutankhamun_ were arduous at best, and being out in the wastes alone did nothing for one's need for rest.

Adam was tired; he could feel it within the kinks in his joints and the heaviness of his eyelids. He could only be ever-vigilant for so long. Soon, his resolve faltered. Adam lowered himself slowly onto the mattress, assessing every ache or pain in his body. _The body will always heal_ , he tried to remind himself. Feeling pain was a reminder that he was vulnerable, and he needed time to mend. An old, almost unrecognizable fear welled inside of him-- that he wouldn't be able to.

However, Adam dispelled the fear. Letting his barriers down, Adam was asleep before his eyelids had fluttered shut.

***

Adam dreamt; vividly, yet nebulously. He dreamt of falling, of running away from something he couldn't put a face to, and of a man in a black coat running away too. He dreamt of home, even though he'd never really had a place to call home-- the wastes were all he knew. Home was warmth, was a sense of security that was infallible. Adam dreamt of places he'd never been, but a sense of déjà vu was overwhelming. Adam dreamt about the poor old woman and her soul-piercing eyes. Adam dreamt of doubt, shame, fear, rage, hate, but beneath all of it was a chance that it would fade.

***

A sudden metallic clank and groan cut through the still air of the room. Adam started, defensively putting an arm in front of him and propping himself up on his other elbow. His sprained wrist protested.

"Hello, Adam." Adam squinted against the sudden light as Megan flipped the switch. He rubbed a hand over his face and sat up, grunting at the stiffness that had settled in his bones. He tried to blink away the sleep in his eyes.

"How long have I been out?" Megan set a tray of what looked like--food?-- on the small table beside his bed.

"Going on twenty hours. How long had it been since you had last slept?" Megan crossed her arms and looked over a still very sleepy looking Adam.

"A pretty long time, since I'm not much of a sleeper to begin with."

"Well it's good. The body needs rest to heal." Megan smiled and gestured towards the tray she had placed on the table. "It also needs food. Eat up." Adam grimaced. The stuff looked like it had come from someone else who didn't have the stomach for it. Nonetheless, Adam's stomach growled. He set the tray in front of him on the bed, picked up the utensil that came with it and started eating. Adam managed a few forced mouthfuls before Megan spoke again.

"Your tests results came back negative. You're clean." Adam swallowed and looked up to Megan.

"What a relief." He went back to his meal. His repulsion to the stuff on the tray was lost to his hunger, and soon the tray was empty. Adam sheepishly sat back as he finished, unsure of what to do next.

"Good. If you're ready, David would like to talk to you."

"David? The captain?" Adam rose slowly to his feet.

"Yes." With nothing more, Megan turned and headed for the door. Adam followed closely behind her.

"So what is a Zion-class Hovercraft like the Tesla doing so far out from the nearest hint of civilization?" Adam questioned, observing every corridor they walked through. Some places were tight, but the ship was sturdy. Adam noted the lack of vibration under his feet. "And why aren't we moving?"

"We were banished from Zion, about five and a half months ago. We're running low on fuel and supplies, so we're conserving what we have until we find coordinates that can help us." Megan led him through what looked like the Operator's atrium. A man sat at a collection of computers, scanning and typing at an almost vicious rate.

"How are you going to do that?"

"That would be my job." The man's voice was biting. He turned away from the computers and faced Megan and Adam. A smug grin appeared as the man crossed his arms. "So this is who David scavenged from the wastes."

"Adam, this is Francis Pritchard. I assume you could have guessed that he's our operator."

" _Pleased_ to meet you." A tone dripping in sarcasm. Adam shifted on his feet.

"Same to you, Francis."

"Boss wants all personnel to meet. Come on." Megan gestured for Pritchard to follow.

"I haven't seen you since we found you. Was the castaway sleepy?" The consistently demeaning tone of Pritchard's voice put Adam on edge.

"Well, _Francis_ ," Adam reveled in how Pritchard cringed at his full name being used, "each person has their fortes, I suppose. And..."Adam was cut off as Megan stopped at a door, marked: "Conference hall."

"Glad to see you two bonding so quickly, but we have more important business to attend to." Megan glared at the two of them.

"What were you saying, Jensen?" Pritchard mumbled under his breath as they filed into the room. David sat at a small table with another woman. Adam remembered her from the landing party that saved him. Malik.

"Adam. It's great to finally properly meet you." David stood, and walked over to where Adam still stood. Pritchard and Megan had already taken seats. Adam stood still, unsure of whether or not to salute or offer a hand. "David Sarif, I'm the captain of this ship." David offered a hand, Adam outstretched his own. Looking down, Adam stopped, taken aback by what the man's arm was _made out of_. It looked as if he had taken the hardware for a machine and molded it into a human arm and hand. The curvature was a stunning replication of the latter, but it was an onyx black that was so-- _inhuman_. David noticed Adam's hesitation.

"A cybernetically augmented limb. It's part of our research. I'll get to that later." Adam nodded, tearing his eyes from David's arm and looking to his face. As they shook hands, David gestured towards the others. "I see you've met Megan and Pritchard, the ship's doctor-scientist and our operator. This is Faridah Malik, our pilot. Adam greeted her with a tight lipped smile and a handshake, feeling the burn of everyone's gazes set upon him.

"So what is it you wanted to talk to me about, captain?" Adam turned to David again.

"First off, I wanted to know what you were doing out here, alone." _I could ask you the same question._ Adam quelled the need to retort. His hesitancy was justified, however. A deserter wasn't very noble or trustworthy in the eyes of anyone.

"I was on a mission, given to me and a partner of mine from my captain. Things got hairy, so I set off on my own. I had been traveling for a day or so before the Sentinels attacked."

"You serve...did serve on a Hovercraft? Which one?"

"The _Tutankhamun_." Adam grit his teeth in its memory.

"I've never heard of it."

"I wouldn't think so. You're a ship from Zion, we weren't. We were from another human city, just on the outskirts of the Mindfields." A collective shiver resonated through the room. The Mindfields were no happy place, and could explain the hardened nature of the city's citizens, more notably of his former shipmates.

"Another human city? I thought Zion was the last of them." Malik spoke up, straightening her back and placing a hand on the table. Adam looked to his feet.

"I guess the human race is more resilient than the machines thought." David spoke.

"It seems that way." Adam said.

"So what were you _doing_ that made you desert your captain, your partner?" David questioned further. Adam hesitated. He had no man but the one standing in front of him to answer to, and he had betrayed enough to have the goals of his mission be disclosed; telling them still felt wrong. Perhaps it was the guilt from how the mission _ended_ that was bothering him.

"My captain had orders from our Command center that outlined the need for an abandoned hard-drive, one that had been left on an old Hovercraft. I don't know what was on it, but that's what my partner and I had set out to find."

"Your captain didn't just take the ship to scout for it?" Malik asked.

"No. That's not how we would carry out missions." Adam's voice darkened. The room went silent. Adam continued: "I was tired of how we were treated, and how my captain regarded human life, so... I left." Adam finished, expecting scorn, or punishment. He was surprised when David spoke.

"You must be pretty well trained to be able to survive in the wastes for so long." David regarded Adam with a speculative, thoughtful eye.

"I don't...see what you mean." Adam squinted and turned his head, trying to decipher the compliment.

"We're a small crew, Adam. And any help we can get-- I have no doubt you've been told we're on our last leg for our supplies-- is gladly needed. Someone like you could be a vital field operative." Adam turned the words over in his head. Reading them inside and out; could this David Sarif be serious?

"Mr. Sarif, I..." Adam struggled to find the words. "I appreciate you saving me, but I don't think it would be right if..."

"Nonsense, Adam! You have nowhere else to go, and neither do we." David motioned towards the others. "We're kindred souls in this world of desolation, and it would be wrong to turn you to those machines again."

"I actually think it would be quite entertaining." Pritchard mumbled, earning him a painful jab in the ribs by Megan. Adam didn't say anything, but instead looked back to David's mechanical arm.

"What kind of research are you doing, why were you banished from Zion?" Adam tore his eyes from the limb again. It was just so strange, seeing a human harnessing the power of humanity's greatest foe.

"This," David held up his prosthetic limb, "is the reason we were kicked out of Zion. We've been developing this research for cybernetic augmentations-- literally bonding metal and flesh to make the human race _better_. It starts with prosthetic limbs, and works into neural implants and subdermal devices, all which help the body function more efficiently if it were solely organic. Zion's council didn't think this was ethical, and due to our research, they banished us." Adam looked skeptically to David. Joining human and machine _was_ unethical, in its own right; but the possibilities it held were astonishing.

"You're doubtful, I can see that. But there is nothing awful about what we are doing. With this research, the human-machine war might finally come to an end." David was passionate about the work he was doing. Adam respected that. "I'm not asking you to take part in these augmentations, just be a part of our crew. We could really use the help." David offered a sheepish grin. Adam sighed, utterly neutral on David's cyber-human research. The thought of metal becoming a part of someone's body made him cringe. Humanity was all some of them had left, wouldn't augmentation just strip more of that away? Still, like David said, Adam had nowhere else to go.

"I'll come with you." A smile broke out on David's face.

"Great! Welcome to the crew of the _Tesla_ , Adam." David put a hand on Adam's shoulder. "And, thank you." Adam nodded, and looked to the others. The crew were minimal, but they were close-knit. Whatever doubts he had about his decision, they faded with the prospect of having a good and honest crew to serve beside, and a captain to serve under who didn't murderously go after objectives. Maybe with some luck and a little time, the _Tesla_ would become his home.

***

The ship was quiet, most sleeping or keeping a silent watch over the sector. Megan sat at a table, examining the blood samples that she had taken from Adam. The first scan had given no sign of anything suspicious, but Megan had found something that was...different.

The structure of Adam's DNA was different than the standard humanoid. He was a "purebred," so to speak, so it ruled out any irregularities that could have been manufactured by the machines. Ever since the beginning of their research, human's had rejected augmentations-- in varying degrees and severities. Many a time, it could be remedied by neuropozyne, however it was in limited supply and was highly inefficient if augmentations were to become the norm. Since augmentations were so closely bonded with the human body, a person's DNA was to determine their compatibility with the metal-made-into-flesh. The structure of Adam's DNA contained bonds that other peoples' didn't. They were bonds that would accept or reject foreign implants or changes made to the body.

At first, she couldn't believe what she had found. Megan conducted countless tests, to make sure that Adam held within him the answer to their obstacles. In the still, silent air of a sleeping Hovercraft, Megan made her way to David's quarters. A discovery like this could not be ignored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really interested in the themes that are in Deus Ex: Human Revolution and I'm really excited to further explore the parallels between it and the Matrix and how the two worlds can coincide. I apologize for any glaring errors in this fic that I may have failed to catch. Thank you for reading!


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